Fragments of Deception
by Nevara Alyss
Summary: A woman runs from her shadowy past in search of what she lost years before. Is it vengeance or absolution she seeks? Or is it something far greater than she could ever imagine? Can she look past prior transgressions to move forward with a new life? One will help her see that the world is harsh but those that care see past the scars. Rated M for violence, language, and smut.
1. Frozen Paths

Soft whispers carried through the Jerall View Inn as Lucy sat at the furthest table facing the door. The screaming winds whistled through the cracks in an adjacent wall; the abrupt gusts made the single candle flicker angrily at its trespasses. The shrouded woman twisted the silver ring around her finger nervously as she awaited the arrival of her brother. The gemmed jewel glinted playfully as her small fingers worked around it. Her mind flooded with contempt as she stared angrily into the blue stone and forsook what it had meant to her.

Yet, she couldn't seem to remove the small trinket from the finger it adorned for nostalgia's sake. But to her, it seemed more like a lie to keep her tethered to her past. _Maybe it's the only thing I have left. _Her eyes left the ring and moved around the room – to the faces of the citizens of Bruma that dotted the bar. The smell of pipe tobacco and stale ale permeated the air with its earthy overtones. She slipped deeper into the wooden chair, her chin touching her chest in near exhaustion. She let out a sigh and folded her arms. Even with the warmth of the fire to stave off the chill, the heavy cloak didn't seem to fight the dire wind coursing towards her.

She would have moved under different circumstances, but the last few years of her life had been one she had rather not happened at all. It had made her paranoid of everyone around her; even her family was suspect in every underhanded deed that had befallen her. She felt justified in the questioning given the circumstances of her seclusion. Regardless, she found herself sitting at a dimly lit table in an inn waiting for news from her brother.

She had only gained contact with him recently, whether he was looking for her or vice versa was something she hadn't pondered, but it was apparent that he had something to tell her. His missive was brief with a location, date, and time and nothing more, but from the handwriting she could tell it was his.

She crossed her ankles, the gentle scuff of leather against like murmured from under the table. Her eyes grew heavy and under the veiled shadow of her hood, she could feel the tiresome drag of sleep gnawing at her.

The sudden sound of the temple bell chiming the late hour stirred her awake. Her hands clenched anxiously around the seams of her cloak as if to bind herself from jumping from her seat. She lifted her head just enough to get the view of the establishment fully. With blurry eyes, she straightened up when the barmaid approached. The rotund woman smiled politely and placed a small cup of brandy before her. Lucy reciprocated the motion and tossed a few septims on to the table top and thanked her.

The woman swished a filthy rag around the table carefully, but never took her eyes off of the former imperial scout. It was unsettling to be sure, but she maintained her decorum as an officer of the army.

"You all alone, honey," the woman questioned.

"I shouldn't be for too much longer," Lucy stated with a nervous smile.

The Redguard let out a sigh and followed with, "Well, if you would like a room, just let me know."

Lucy nodded acceptingly and thanked her again, "but it wasn't necessary."

She wrung her fingers briefly and took the first sip of brandy. The sweet tang warmed her all the way to her gut. It only made the problem of staying awake all the more difficult, but she knew she had to if only for the sake of survival. Her wrists fell into the cascading light, exposing the deep red scars from numerous bindings of steel and coarse cord.

She winced at the glaring lines and took a harder swig of the drink before slamming the glass down on the table in frustration and wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Her eyes fell away from the memories of torment in shame. The constant reminder of what led her to be an enemy of the state, the betrayal of those around her, the regrets and despair piled on her like a heavy weight around her neck. Instinctively, she let her hands slip from the yellow light to her lap. If anything she could have painted herself the victim of circumstances well beyond her control, but somewhere deep down within her she felt that they were there to tell her that she had survived for the sake of the one person she wanted more than anything.

Her fingers wrapped around her tunic's hem carelessly as she thought to herself about the small face she hadn't held since she was twenty-one. Large dark eyes, fair skin, she missed it all. It was the only thing she had going for her, that and the bought of revenge that she had dwelling in her. The corner of her mouth crooked in a mild sneer as she leaned against the table when the door opened. A man in imperial gear came in, dusting off the white powder from his black hair.

He looked around the room; a stern look upon his face as he scoured the area for her. The way he carried himself when they locked eyes seemed to shift from one of anger to one of relief. He casually strolled over to her and took his spot across the table from Lucy. The barmaid came over where he ordered a stiff drink and turned his attention back to his baby sister. A small smile lit up his weathered face when the maid placed his drink before him.

"You look good," he started. "How have you been?" Lucy's eyes narrowed briefly at the question but felt no compulsion to snap at the genuine concern her brother gave her. She honestly had no idea how to answer such a question and remained silent. She only watched him drink his ale and set the mug aside. When he realized the shifting of her eyes from a lack of satisfactory answer, his smile disappeared and he shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"No," Lucy murmured. Her eyes stopped dead center, but they were filled with held back tears. "I'm sorry, Oliver."

The old soldier's shoulders slumped at the wavering in his youngest sibling's voice. He couldn't look at her in that moment. The sheer magnitude of pain between them filled the void as they sat in silence. Lucy shifted slightly in her chair and cleared her throat. It was the only thing she could think to do in those trying seconds. Oliver glanced up at her and nodded his head that he was ready to begin again.

"What happened to father wasn't your fault," he began. "I know why you did it and I know what happened." He laced his fingers and stared intently at the lone flame. "What Davin did was…," he shook his head. His knuckles grew white as his muscles flexed.

"Stop," Lucy insisted abruptly. "I can't do anything about it, now." Her attention scanned the room inquisitively and returned to her kin. "Why did you call me here?" Her head cocked questioningly. "Are you here to haul me in?"

"Are you insane?!" Oliver hissed. "Do you think I would spend all my time trying to track you down just to do that?" Lucy nodded stiffly. The legionnaire's head dropped in frustration and he shook his head. "You really think I would sell you out?"

"Why are you here, then?" Lucy growled. "Who are you working for: the Dominion, the Legion, Mother, Alleta?"

"I'm here for _you_," Oliver spat. "_You're_ mother betrayed all of us. Alleta couldn't stand how things happened and she left the Legion after Father passed. She didn't care what happened to you and after Davin left you to rot in some cell in the city, well, I couldn't just let you fall to the way side for the sake of my grievance. You had nothing to do with it. Yes, I was angry about your part in it, but you were just a pawn and in the end a sacrificial lamb."

"Was I now?" Lucy prodded sarcastically.

Oliver rose from his seat and nodded for the door. Lucy only stared at him suspiciously for a moment before picking up her small satchel and followed him from the inn. The night was blanketed by thick, heavy clouds. Snow drifted around them in the gusty wind as they walked through the streets. The temple of Talos was nearly destroyed, but she glanced at the broken statue in the courtyard of the castle. The plaque upon it was weather-worn, making the words barely distinguishable.

The guards patrolled and grumbled about the biting cold that even the torches they carried couldn't turn away. Lucy could commiserate with them to the fullest extent, but as the siblings made their way through the city gate in silence, they came upon the ramshackle lodgings of the stables. A single horse stood amongst the stacks of hay with a large satchel over its back.

Lucy glimpsed the look of concern from her brother as they approached the large beast. Oliver grabbed the reins and forced them into his sister's hand.

"You need to get out of here," he hoarsely whispered.

"Where will I go?" Lucy questioned with a sharp look of surprise.

The burly man lifted her small frame on to the horses back and led the two to the gate. Before she could protest further he turned to her and saw the damage that had been caused to those she thought loved her. Lucy looked down at the wounds and quickly hid them under her sleeve.

"There's enough money in there to start a new life," he uttered, his voice beginning to crack under the strain. "You have a new identity in there, as well." The young woman pulled the small stack of papers out from the pack and looked them over. Her eyes squinted as she read the words and without saying anything put them away. "I figured it was something fitting."

"It's ironic," she grumbled.

Oliver let out a chuckle, but stopped when the gravity of the situation returned.

"If you are looking for Davin, head north," he urged, as he returned control of the steed to her. "That's all the information I've been able to gather as to his whereabouts."

"Am I going to see you again?" Lucy queried in a small voice. It was barely audible over the howling winds that she didn't think that he could hear her.

"I'll try," he assured her.

He gave the horse a firm smack on the rump and she was off in to the night. The needle snow had become sleet as she raced away from civilization again. She turned back to see her brother still standing in the faint light of the stable's torches, growing smaller the further she got. A lump lodged in her throat as the wind burned her face. She had to go north, how far north, she wasn't certain, but it couldn't be any worse there than it was in Cyrodiil.

But she had a target and she was going to get her answers even if it meant she died to get them.


	2. Split Personality

Vilkas sat under the awning outside Jorrvaskr. The slow crackle of the Skyforge above broke the buzzing of insects and pattering of rain above. Through the thick fog he could see the faintest glimmers of stars. He placed his mug of mead to his lips and took a swig of the thick brew. Idle chatter flew into his ears as he leaned against the post and stared out over the practice dummies in the yard. There was something tranquil about the evening, but his bestial nature told him of ominous dealings being brought on the wind.

It had been difficult to give up his transformations from man to beast, yet he succeeded in his overcoming withdrawal every time it reared its head. There was something primal about the hunt. Even he enjoyed the power it had given him. Aela and Skjor had invited him on some of their nightly prowls, but Vilkas refused in hopes of turning away from the darkened light the Companions had followed. He saw the strength of Kodlak and understood what it meant for him. The rot was destroying him and in the past months, saw the Harbinger become more secluded from the rest.

The old man was like a second father to him and when it was brought to his attention that Kodlak wanted to be rid of the disease, he was angered by it. But the more he listened to the man's words in their private conversations; he saw what Kodlak was saying. He understood the greatness of ascending to the ranks of Sovengarde's elite warriors for all eternity. It still troubled him, however, that such things weren't considered before joining the Circle. They all had the choice to take to the blood, even him. And yet now, here he was pontificating about the after-life.

Vilkas turned toward the rabble-rousers at a nearby table and took his place between Ria and Farkas and listened to the murmurings going on between Ria and Aela. The rumors of a dragon attack on Helgen hung heavily in the air, but to the seasoned warriors it seemed so far-fetched that it could have been anything. He'd seen in his experience, traveling the length and breadth of Skyrim, what happens when mass hysteria takes hold. It could have been anything; but dragons?

The longer he thought about the limitless possibilities of such a beast being taken down. He'd only heard the legends of such terrors; they almost sounded unstoppable. _These are dark times if this is indeed true._ But such glory would have been achieved by taking one down. They would be legend if it were at all possible.

The chill in the air grew more intense, as they sat huddled around the table speaking of adventure and what their next task for the coming day was going to be. Athis and he were to patrol the road near Ivarstead to stop some bears that had been killing wanderers and merchants there. It would be about a two days trip, there and back, but would have been well worth the coin they received from the contract; while Farkas, Aela, and Ria were to meet with Severio Pelagia in the morning about a potential threat from giants.

"Have you seen the few stragglers from Helgen coming in?" Skjor questioned from across the table.

Njada nodded and grumbled, "Saw them when I was coming back from Falkreath."

"What have you heard exactly?" Aela asked before taking a sip of mead.

"Crazy talk. Most people couldn't describe what happened, but from the way they spoke that place is an empty husk now," Njada replied with a lack of concern. "One of them said that no one could have gotten out of there. It was complete pandemonium. The Legion was there and they couldn't bring it down."

"Huh," Vilkas muttered. "Of course the milk-drinkers couldn't."

"The rumors are already starting that it was a Stormcloak ruse to break-out Ulfric," Farkas interjected as he picked at his food.

"Really? I heard it was the Empire," Aela remarked with intrigue.

"When have we ever followed rumors and speculation?" Vilkas grumbled. "Regardless of who or what happened. It doesn't concern us unless we are called upon to do so."

The abrupt nature of his tone made the group look at him with concern. His head throbbed and the clenching of his jaw drew the attention of those of the Circle. They knew he'd given up his transformations. He ached from it and he wanted to give in to the urge badly that every part of his body itched with a heated bloodlust. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he shook off the wave of hormones urging him to action.

He let out a hard sigh and finished off the rest of his ale before taking his leave of them. He wanted to be alone, away from the heightened senses that were driving him to near madness. He thought a walk to the bridge by the river would do him some good. The rushing current of water would temper his urges slightly and clear his head for he knew that if he didn't settle the monster that he had within him, he would have more difficulty sleeping than he usually did.

Vilkas left the city to its own devices. The liveliness and whispers that covered the night were far from agreeable to his overdriven perception. His vision grew more acute; his hearing picked up the careless shuffle of his armor as he stomped through the cold rain. The icy water dripped from his dark hair down his neck and slid along his spine. He welcomed the sensation as it chilled even the smallest part of his burning flesh.

The guards greeted him as he passed but he remained silent, ignoring the pleasantries for the sake of not coming off as more angry than he already was. He felt the change boiling as he made his way towards the meadery. The petrichor couldn't mask the overwhelming smell of honey mead brewing. The night was young and full of life; moths danced around sconces dangerously close to their demise, but even then the beauty of flowers blooming in the moonlight danced along with the falling rain.

Everything called for him to join them in the frolicking of the night winds. He would have given in if he hadn't made the vow to stave off such thirsts. He knew he was better than the beast that he harbored in his soul, but it toyed with his emotions and wants. The faintest smells of blood on the breeze elicited near orgasmic elation - which he was barely able to control - as he came to the bridge. The Throat of the World cast darkness upon him with its imposing altitudes.

He leaned against the stone railing and folded his arms. The fine mist of the falls mixed with the precipitation, sending waves of crisp relaxation through his body. He closed his eyes and listened to the night waking upon the world. Such ambience couldn't have been anymore pure than in his moments of solitude. It felt so right that he took in a deep breath of it and didn't want to let it go. He felt the ebb and flow of his desire slowing to a weaker impulse, but it wasn't enough. His body began to ache further and his muscles twitched uncontrollably. It was so much work to stay in his form that he exhausted easily. The strain was taking its toll and he feared that he wouldn't be able to fight it. He was doing it for himself and for Kodlak, but such a war with one's self came at a price, like everything does.

"Are you alright?" Ria asked from the stony path.

Vilkas glanced at her briefly before resuming his posture. He hadn't heard her approach as he struggled with his unnatural nature. His mind was clouded and not realizing that he'd been followed proved that the disease could be his greatest weakness. The distraction was unwelcome, but he said nothing about it to his friend.

"I'm fine," he uttered. He closed his eyes as the throb intensified. "Just thinking."

"What about?" Ria pressed as she took her spot next to him.

"It's nothing. It's good to get away from the chaos and just look at everything from different eyes," he replied.

Ria looked down the river's course and smiled faintly. The soft sway of grass rippling along the paths above and below moved at their own paces. She could understand the sentiment completely. There was something quite beautiful about how the night moved as if nothing else was to stop it. Even with the knowledge that the day would divide it as it had from the universe's inception it always seemed reborn in to a new shell. It was constant and ever changing. Each second became something new and obscure within the confines of time.

"If you want to talk," she started without looking at him.

"I said, I'm fine," Vilkas snapped coldly making the woman jump inadvertently. He shook his head, regretful of his tone and apologized. He frowned more at himself than at her and started walking back toward Whiterun. "Come on. We have an early day before us tomorrow, and it definitely will not wait."

The two walked together in silence. The urge never left and his exhaustion seemed to build before his very eyes. He could smell Ria's sweat even from upwind. His mouth watered and his ears picked up the pumping of her heart as they walked. The primal instinct hadn't beaten him tonight, but it wasn't going to let him forget it.


	3. The Nobody

The giant loomed over the group. Deadly eyes stared down at Farkas as it sized up its miniscule competition. It reeked of dirt and other foul things that he knew a good scrubbing wouldn't be able to wash away. It flung sweat as it moved its branch-like limbs in chaotic motions. It growled at him angrily, balling his large hand into a fist. His huge club rose perilously over his head and the hulking man knew that he meant to bring it down on top of him.

Three arrows whistled through the air and landed squarely in the giant's back. The massive pillar of flesh growled in annoyance and rubbed away the barbs stuck in its flesh. Aela laughed at the motion and continued to fire, but the giant had given her a sharp glance over its shoulder and turned to take her head on. The fiery woman's smile faded as it rushed her, closing the distance between them in seconds. Farkas and Ria were hot on its tail as it laid a hard punch into Aela's chest, sending her flying several feet into the rows of cabbage.

In the distance, he could hear the shrieks of a woman in terror. Farkas tried to control his rage when he heard the hiss of air escaping his friend. Ria took to the giant's flank and was quickly batted away for her indiscretion. She maintained her footing; deep gouges in the ground showed her how far she'd gone. She and Farkas exchanged glances as they saw Aela stand up and wipe her mouth carelessly. She didn't give it a second look at the evidence of damage. Her hair was frazzled and the fire in her eyes was far more intense than before her swipe with death.

She drew her sword and rushed the beast. He grumbled as she approached and nailed Farkas with his foot square in the chest. He staggered for breath. His lungs screamed, but he couldn't take in air. His eyes burned as fresh perspiration dripped into them. Everything was a blur. Yelling let loose into the morning breeze as heralded warnings came in his direction. He blinked and shook the sting from his vision. The giant was getting ready to charge him. The large mass pounded the ground intimidatingly and ran at him. The club it wielded swung wildly. Farkas blocked the shot, feeling the brunt of it reverberate up the steel into his body.

The entire appendage up to the shoulder throbbed in agony, but he didn't have time to mend the injury before a second swing of the opponent's weapon cut through the air. He lifted his blade to parry the attack but before the strike could come a gust of intense wind coursed passed Farkas' head. He could feel it against his cheek and the whistle of it violated his ear in a shriek. He saw the perpetrator of the noise in the form of an arrow lodged deeply into the giant's chest.

It staggered back on its' heels, the ground thudding with each step it took. It looked stunned at the intensity of the projectile protruding from it. The heavy shaft vibrated with each breath it took. Aela let out a war cry and pelted it with her arsenal sending the beast into a fearful fracas. Farkas and Ria both jumped on it, taking advantage of the giant's disorientation. Hot blood spilled across the potato patch and the giant landed heavily at their feet.

They each gave each other a confused look and turned in the direction of where the arrow had been shot, but no one was there. Aela approached the giant in deep thought and returned her gaze to the broken wall. She wrenched the arrow from out of the giant and examined it closely. She balanced it gracefully across the shaft and ran her thumb down the flights. She seemed so curious about the construction that she clenched it tightly in her fist as if she had claimed it for herself.

"Did any of you get a look at who did this?" Aela finally questioned as she studied the area.

"I didn't see anyone," Ria replied with a sigh.

"Neither did I," Farkas muttered. He rubbed the pain in his elbow and sheathed his weapon.

Aela let out a scoff and shook her head. "Let's get our coin and return to the city. I'm sure Kodlak will have something for us to do later."

As Farkas walked, he could hear humming from behind him. It was soft and barely audible, but to his heightened senses, he could have picked it up over the din in the city. The strange scent that permeated the air drew closer and he stopped to see what it had been that was following. A large thud hit him in the chest followed by the words: "Gods damn it."

He glimpsed the small form of a woman sprawled on the ground. The heavy leather armor barely fit her and bore the markings of the Imperial Legion, but she didn't wear the helm of one, just the hood and cloak that shielded her from the rising sun. He watched her head rise, but under the shadow of the hood, he could only see the bottom of her face and the obvious frown she wore.

"I'm sorry," he said, matching her frown. "Are you alright?"

He offered her his hand and a fine leather gauntlet came up from behind her. She reached up and took his hand in silence. She thanked him softly as she dusted the leaves and dirt from her cloak. He looked her over and saw the small parcel at her feet and a compound bow off to the side of the cobblestone road. Arrows rolled around clumsily in all directions. Her head whipped around hurriedly, fine wisps of white hair peeked from under its heavy garment.

"What did you do now, you blockhead?" Aela sarcastically asked as she came up beside him.

"It's alright," the woman said. "I wasn't paying attention." She picked up her bow and the small satchel and looked up at the towering man before her. She turned from them and picked up several arrows. "I haven't had the best of luck as of late."

Farkas and Aela saw the fistful of arrows in her quiver and deduced that they were of the same make as the one that struck the giant. They turned their attention to the woman as she quickly placed them away and stared at Whiterun with an inquisitive look upon her face. She slung the bow over her shoulder and apologized for her clumsiness. She bade them good day and started walking. By his very nature he was willing to not mention the shot from nowhere, but as he turned to head back to Whiterun, Aela stepped in her path.

"Is this yours?" she asked as the arrow she'd clenched tightly in her fist came between them.

The woman came to an abrupt stop; the hood of her cloak came down and rested on her shoulders. He watched the expression on her face change slightly. The subtle movement of the corner of her mouth twitched as if to stifle back the smile she had only heightened his awareness of her. Her gloved hand came up to the shaft and as Aela returned the arrow to its owner, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

"It was a lucky shot," she said, placing the arrow with the rest.

"I'll say," Ria chimed. "If you hadn't shown up Farkas would have been injured pretty badly."

The giant of a man shot his shield-sibling a glare and returned his attention to the strange woman before them. She was thumbing the ring on her finger anxiously as Aela looked her over intently. They both took in a large whiff of air and could tell she wasn't from around here. She didn't smell like the usual inhabitants and didn't carry herself like one either. She just seemed to exist in the space she took up. It was all very strange.

Her eyes kept shifting from side to side as Aela spoke to her, but Farkas could tell she was distracted by something. After several minutes of watching their exchange, the woman excused herself again and started west. She pulled her hood up and he had expected her to continue down the road, instead, she took a right towards the stables and up the path.

Ria nudged him as they walked. He couldn't understand how his brother could tolerate her bubbly personality, but he did, much to Farkas' dismay. She might have been good at fighting, but she was a dreamer and flighty during her downtime, but her head was in the game when out in the field. So, he assumed that was the only reason she was allowed by Vilkas' side.

"You think she'd make a good Companion?" Ria questioned as her eyes shot to the woman in front of them.

Farkas shrugged in response and rubbed the kink in his sore shoulder. He was going to have to get a salve for it when he got back to town, he knew that for certain. He hid the pain well and played it off as his usual quirk, but Aela glanced at him.

"She might," Aela replied. "I told her if she was interesting to see the old man."

They were nearing the front gate when they saw a guard speaking with the woman. He watched her as he passed; his head fixated on her until he felt like his neck was going to snap. Aela gave him a hard shove in his injured shoulder and nodded for them to continue.

The last words he heard from her were "I have news about the dragon attack on Helgen."

As the heavy gates shut behind them, his mind leapt to action. He was nearing excitement at the idea of dragons and with all the rumors and rumblings from the guards actually panned out and were true, things were going to get very exciting shortly. He looked at Ria and she smiled. She had heard the same thing as he. She seemed elated, but her expression had betrayed her. She seemed hesitant at such an ordeal, which any sane person would be. But everyone in the Companions knew that if they were called to defend against such beasts, they would heed it. For it was their duty and for the honor they would have in it.


End file.
